


Moments When

by AppleWood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempted Murder, Canon character deaths, M/M, Murder, OOC, Reincarnation, Tom is not a nice guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleWood/pseuds/AppleWood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter- the boy said to have the power to defeat him. The infant stared at Lord Voldemort calmly. Voldemort laughed, remembering moments when they were Tom Riddle and Harry Wilson. </p><p>"Come back to haunt me, have you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments When

**May, 1937**

“We really cannot accept any more, we’re already at our wits end,” the woman muttered, “are you sure every other option has been exhausted?”

“We combed the area he was found in and the surrounding but we found no one who even knew or had seen him before, and we’ve held onto him personally for weeks now, no one has come to claim the lad,” the policeman said, one hand clasped on the small boy’s shoulders.

Mrs. Cole sighed, and bent down to look at the small boy, he was very cute, it would help with possible adoption- but he was already at _least_ eight or nine years old, most couples wanted to adopt younger. The boy peered at her with his large green eyes and gave her a shy smile.

“It’s either here or holed up in some cell,” The policeman informed her.

Mrs. Cole looked at the boy again and felt a tug at her heart and let out a sigh before nodding.

“Does he have a name?” Mrs. Cole asked, one eyebrow raised.

“None that he remembers ma’am, however, while at the station he took a shine to one of the officers, Harrison Wilkes, so we started calling him Harrison’s shadow for a while and soon it just became Harrison Jr. or Harry for short,” the officer filled her in, now slightly pushing the boy forward.

“Do you really not remember anything Harry?” Mrs. Cole asked, “No last name, no family?”

“No ma’am,” Harry’s voice was soft and shy as if he had been schooled to be seen and not heard, “I can only remember the past few weeks.”

“Very well.” Mrs. Cole said, putting an arm around Harry and taking a small bag full of some donated clothes from the men in the police station, “Go on and run inside, there’s a girl named Marianne who can help you find a place to sleep until we can hopefully get a cot donated for you, or a room miraculously clears up.”

Harry nodded and started to walk up to the looming and rickety building. Mrs. Cole watched him walk in before turning back to the officer.

“Anything else?”

“No, I’ve told you everything we’ve been able to find out about him,” The officer bowed his head slightly, “thank you for taking him in, the men will be relieved.”

“Yes, well, have a nice day.” Mrs. Cole turned around and began to walk up after Harry.

“Wait!” The officer suddenly called, causing Mrs. Cole to turn around, “Take care of him yeah? We’ve all grown fond of him, he’s a good lad.”

“We’ll try.” Mrs. Cole muttered as she walked up and into the door.

As Mrs. Cole walked in through the door she was greeted by Marianne who gave her an encouraging smile, “The new boy is just darling Mrs. Cole, I’m sure he’ll be adopted right away if we teach him how to cook and clean and maybe sew.”

“Where’d you put him?” Mrs. Cole asked, “I need to bring him his things.”

“Oh, I put him with Tom,” Marianne said a bit cautiously.

Mrs. Cole felt a chill go down her spine and she turned to look at Marianne.

“Mrs. Cole, please understand, Tom is the only one here who has a room all to himself, plus Tom could do with a friend around him, he’s always off on his own.”

“He chooses to be alone Marianne, he likes his space.” Mrs. Cole answered.

“I don’t know why you favor Tom Mrs. Cole, he seems to always get what he wants.”

“ _I do it not for him, but for everyone else._ ” Mrs. Cole thought. Clearing her throat she said out loud, “Fine he may stay there.”

  ---------

 

Tom smirked as his hand slipped into his pocket and gently caressed the ring he had just taken from a small girl named Missy. It had apparently been left for her by her mother. Tom scowled as he thought about it. At least his mother had died and hadn’t willingly dropped him off here.

He entered his room in order to put it in his box when he stilled. Sitting on the floor of his room was a small boy who was flipping through his only book. Or well, the book he had stolen from Howard two years ago when he heard Howard was going to be adopted.

The boy looked up and Tom realized that he didn’t recognize the boy nor did the boy seem to recognize him, which wouldn’t seem so farfetched since there were quite a lot of children in Wool’s Orphanage- however, all the children knew _of_ him and certainly knew by now not to touch his things.

“What are you doing?” Tom asked coldly.

The boy seemed confused at his tone and simply gestured toward the book, “Reading.”

“You can read?” Tom questioned, raising one eyebrow in disbelief. Hardly anyone at the orphanage could read, sometimes the older ones were able to learn some basic reading skills when they picked up jobs in order to help out. The fact that Tom had taught himself how to read was more proof that he was better than the rest of them, “How did you learn to read?”

The boy’s forehead crinkled in thought, before shaking his head, “I don’t know.”

“Liar.” Tom accused, he let the strange power he always had course through him he looked the boy directly in the eyes, “Tell me the _truth_.”

The boy looked at him curiously not being affected by whatever Tom was doing, “I _am_ telling the truth.”  

“Tom.”

Tom’s face immediately went blank, into a perfect mask of politeness as he spun around to face the orphanage’s matron Mrs. Cole.

“Yes Mrs. Cole?”

“This is Harry, your new roommate until space clears up elsewhere,” Mrs. Cole said, walking over to the boy and giving him a bag which the boy accepted, “I expect you to make him feel welcome here.”

“Understood Mrs. Cole,” Tom replied with an easy and charming smile.

“Harry here has amnesia, do you know what that is?” Mrs. Cole questioned him.

“It’s when you lose your memory.”

“Right, so I don’t want any _funny_ business alright? He was brought here personally by the police and I wouldn’t be surprised if they came to check up on him from time to time.” It was said nonchalantly enough but Tom could see it for what it was really for- a warning.

“Of course Mrs. Cole.”

Mrs. Cole gave a curt nod and then walked out of the room.

                                                      ---------                                                      

**July, 1937**

 

“It’s a really nice day out today Tom!” Harry said, laughing as he ran around, he had been at Wool’s Orphanage for three weeks now and had seemingly adjusted well enough. He had quickly gotten over his shyness and had become a very bright and chatty child.

However, he would not stop following Tom. Tom likened it to a baby duck that had imprinted. No matter how harsh his words were or how much he ignored the boy, he always came back.

Tom had not harmed Harry yet, since he did seem to be visited quite often by the policemen who had found him. If they were in the area they tended to stop by to exchange words.

“Tom,” Harry said poking Tom at his side, “I hear we get to go to the sea on holidays! Is that really true? I don’t think I have ever been to the sea before.”

Tom once again, did not reply. Harry didn’t seem to mind (he never really did) as he continued to bask in the rare sunlight.

“Tom, do you know when your birthday is?”

Tom finally snapped at Harry, “Of course I _know_ when it is, I turn eleven this December. Who does not know when their birthday is?” With that, Tom turned around and did not even look back as he walked away, intent on losing the ever-growing nuisance that was Harry.

“Oh,” Harry said, letting Tom go ahead as he looked down and whispered, “I don’t.”

  ---------

The children all knew to fear Tom. They had bullied him once, rallied against him because he was different and they could sense it. Not anymore. Now they cowered at his feet and Tom felt _powerful_.

They held no such fear of Harry.

Harry ran from the group of boys who were chasing him with sticks. Harry Hunting, they called it. Everything they wished they could inflict on Riddle, they attempted to inflict on Harry.

Harry was fast though, and was soon clawing his way up a tree. The boys’ sticks were long though and though he was far up, they still managed to land a few good hits on his legs, leaving red marks that would later turn into ugly purple bruises.

“Tom!” Harry called out as he spotted the boy, “Tom, help!”

The boys hitting at his legs suddenly froze in fear as they too spotted Tom.

Tom regarded Harry’s situation with cold eyes until finally he simply turned and walked away, not doing a thing.

Harry cried out as the boys exchanged dangerous smiles with one another and continued.

  ---------

**August, 1937**

  
  
Wool’s Orphanage took many of their charges out to the sea. It was tradition that never seemed to fail, no matter how bad the monetary situation got or how many children they currently needed to look after.

However, Mrs. Cole was on high alert, the last time they had come here the _incident_ had happened. She was sure that Tom had done something to poor Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop. They still refused to talk about it, and had refused to come today, choosing to stay back at the orphanage.

Her eyes zeroed in on Tom Riddle, being followed as always, by small Harry.

Harry was a wonderful child, however, she felt his association with the Riddle boy was truly holding him back. How many opportunities had the boy missed to meet potential families because he chose to follow Riddle around like a puppy rather than talk to the families?

Suddenly some kids shouted in pain and Mrs. Cole diverted her attention. A couple of children had tripped and scraped their knees while rough-housing. She tutted as she went over to inspect.

Tom smirked as he noticed everyone’s distraction. The smirk grew dangerous as he turned to Harry who was also looking in the direction of the commotion, worry in his eyes.

“Harry, do you want to see a secret place?”

Harry seemed to hesitate upon seeing Tom’s expression but nodded anyway. Tom roughly gripped Harry’s upper-arm and closed his eyes and thought of his Cave while drawing his power to the surface.

As they appeared in the Cave, rather than being scared like Benson and Bishop, Harry smiled.

“Whoa!” Harry called out as he clambered to the edge of the lake and peered at the small island in the middle, “This is amazing Tom! I didn’t know you could do that! How did you do that?”

Tom’s face was in a scowl nothing seemed to scare Harry. He didn’t fear Tom, and it annoyed Tom to no end.

“Why aren’t you scared?”

“Huh?” Harry responded, looking at the boy in slight amusement, “Why should I be scared? You’re my friend.”

“Friend?”

“Well, yeah, at least I think so,” Harry got a bit closer to the water and let his fingers trail along the surface of the water, “Can I tell you something Tom?”

Tom felt something ugly claw up within him, friends were for the weak. Friends were for the filth that he was forced to share space with in the orphanage. Friends were a distant dream that Tom buried and hid underneath his hatred. He did not need a _friend_.

“Can you swim Harry?” Tom suddenly asked, disregarding Harry’s own question.

Harry made the face he always made when he was trying to remember something he had long ago forgotten, “I…I don’t know Tom, I’m sorry.”

“Then you better be careful, the water’s deep.” Tom whispered.

With a strong shove, Harry disappeared with a splash.

Tom ignored whispers of a foreign emotion just as he ignored the gasps and splashes and left the Cave.

 --------- 

 

Harrison Wilkes was a very tall imposing figure who did not talk much nor show much emotion, which was why he was considered so great at his job. Very rarely did he ever let fear or doubt get in the way of catching a criminal.

However, right now, he was beyond angry.

Harry had at first been a hindrance to doing his job, perhaps he liked the fact that Wilkes stayed quiet so he could prattle on without being interrupted or maybe Wilkes made him feel safe, but soon the boy had grown on him to the point where he would let Harry go out with him if he weren’t doing anything dangerous.

He would have taken the boy in himself, but his wife had insisted that she was not ready for a child- and if she was she would want her own. He now wished he had disregarded her worries and had taken him in.

His partner was currently interrogating the suspect, 10-year-old Tom Marvolo Riddle.

When the matron had come to them with her face pale and shaken to report Harry as missing, she was quick to point the boy out and now that he was in the same room with him, Wilkes knew why. The boy was unsettling. Despite the boy’s damn near perfect answer and alibi Wilkes just knew that he was responsible for whatever had happened to young Harry.

When Wilkes’ partner turned to him and gave him a half-hearted shrug he damn near flipped over the table and lunged for the boy- in fact, he might have, had the door not opened at that moment.

In walked a wet, shivering, but _alive_ Harry. Wilkes gathered the boy in a hug before pulling away and promptly asking him what happened.

Harry shivered some more and bowed his head, “I- I wanted to be closer to the sea because I thought…I thought maybe I had been to the sea before and I could remember. I wandered off from Tom and managed to climb down the rocks but it was too slippery for me to climb back up.”

There were questions and “are you sures” and plenty of suspicious glares sent towards Tom, but Harry assured them all.

“I do not think I have anything more to add,” Mrs. Cole said after the police were done admonishing and lecturing the boy, “Come, you’ve been gone for two whole days, you must be starving.”

Harry shuffled as he moved to follow, he brushed past Tom and did not meet Tom’s glances.

A room, perhaps by fate, suddenly cleared up and Harry moved out of Tom’s room shortly after.

Tom felt something he had not felt since he was younger and helpless- shock.

  ---------

**October, 1937**

  
  
Harry was once again up the tree, it seemed like each time he climbed higher and higher to escape the bullies below him. Despite the fact that he did not hang around Tom anymore he was still a social outcast among the others and Harry Hunting retained its popularity amongst the boys.

Harry pressed himself closer to the trunk as he felt a rock narrowly miss his head. Harry closed his eyes and held out his hands in front of him as if to block the rocks if they came near him.

Soon however, he heard the scuttle of the boys running away and Harry tentatively opened his eyes and looked down and was surprised to see Tom Riddle staring up at him with a look Harry had never seen before on his face.

Harry climbed out of the tree and spoke to Tom for the first time since the Cave incident, “Why?”

Tom pulled a scowl as if he was not too sure why he did it himself but spat out, “You are my friend, are you not?”

  ---------

**March, 1938**

  
  
Contrary to popular belief by many who visited Wool’s Orphanage, Billy Stubbs was not an orphan.

Billy Stubbs was a nice boy. He had just moved quite close to the orphanage with both of his young parents. He often came to the orphanage to play with the children and usually brought along his pet rabbit and let the children who were not allowed pets to play with him.

Billy Stubbs was a much more appropriate friend for Harry to have than Tom Riddle, Mrs. Cole thought as she looked out the window to see Billy and Harry talking to each other while Harry pet the rabbit with a child-like reverence. It also was a good thing that Billy’s parents were looking into possible adoption since Billy’s mother could not conceive anymore and Billy wanted a sibling.

Harry, meanwhile, thought it was nice to have another friend. While his and Tom’s friendship had been repaired and the two got along a lot better now, Tom was still quite withdrawn and still often ignored Harry or asked to be alone.

When Billy Stubbs had enthusiastically greeted him, Harry had been ecstatic. Plus, Harry was sure that Tom liked all the personal time he had now that Harry had Billy to play with.

Billy, Billy’s rabbit, and Harry were currently chatting. Harry decided that while Tom was a great listener, it was great to have someone who responded to his questions.

“So you really don’t remember anything?” Billy Stubbs asked, his eyes wide.

“Nope!” Harry said shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.

“You could be anyone!” Billy Stubbs exclaimed with excitement, “My mum told me about how a Russian princess had escaped death and people have been seeing her everywhere!”

“I’m a boy, I don’t think I’m a missing princess,” Harry pointed out, laughing at Billy’s nonsense.

“But still! You could be royalty!”

“If I am, I will make your rabbit the royal rabbit,” Harry said with fake solemnity, causing Billy to also laugh and pretend to bow to his rabbit.

Neither of them noticed either Mrs. Cole or Tom watching them from windows.

There were advantages to Harry’s friendship, Tom had learned. He was much less likely to be punished if Harry was around, for one. Second, Harry was one of the only ones who possessed any type of intelligence as far as Tom was concerned- and because he was intelligent and chose to follow Tom showed that Tom was _worthy_ of recognition.

And sometimes Harry chased away the loneliness that clawed at his very soul.

Tom, he realized, was not very willing to give up any of these advantages. As he watched Harry laugh with the filth that was Stubbs his lip curled into something of a snarl.

  ---------

  
Harry was saddened when Billy Stubbs moved after his rabbit had been hung from the rafters. Billy had been so shaken up by the event that his parents had little choice but to move, and Billy had never even come to say goodbye to Harry.

Harry turned to look at Tom who was re-reading their only book once more.

He knew Tom had done it. Despite what Mrs. Cole thought, Harry did not have any illusions that Tom was innocent, he still had not forgotten about the Cave incident- and Tom had not even ever apologized. What Harry did not understand was _why_. Billy Stubbs was Harry’s friend, and had even been keeping Harry out of his hair.

Tom usually only hurt bullies or people who deserved it. It was something that Harry sort of admired- it reminded him of the policemen.

Harry bit his lip and went deep into thought, maybe Billy was secretly mean? He desperately wanted to ask Tom, but Tom had been in a very good mood ever since he heard Billy was moving, and he did not want to do anything to ruin it, so he kept his mouth shut and his questions to himself.

  ---------

**May, 1938**

 

“That’s wicked!” Harry said, as he saw Tom hissing to a small snake curled against his wrist. He seemed to always see snakes around Tom, but had never ever seen him do this. Secretly he was pleased that Tom was sharing this part of him.

The snake seemed to nod at whatever Tom had said and slithered away, into the grass.

“You could become a famous snake charmer,” Harry said jokingly. Harry expected an eye-roll or perhaps a sarcastic reply but instead-

“No. It’s _my_ gift. My secret. You’re lucky I even showed you.”

Harry winced, knowing he had angered Tom as he stalked away back to Wool’s.

As Tom entered the orphanage and closed the door behind him, Harry sighed and sat down in the grass. It seemed like there was never a right time for Harry to tell Tom, though sometimes he thought that even if he managed to tell Tom he would not even be paying attention.

Making sure no one else was looking, Harry concentrated on a pebble and made it levitate for a few moments before dropping it back down onto the grass.

  ---------

**July 1938**

  
  
“Hello, may I talk to Tom alone for a few moments?” The man asked. Harry looked up and smiled in amusement at the odd way the man was dressed.

“Of course sir, I’ll be in my room Tom,” Harry said, getting off of Tom’s floor and dusting off the back of his trousers before walking out.

After the man left, Tom would not tell him anything about what the man said, but had a look of extreme happiness and excitement on his face.

Harry felt a pit of worry settle in his stomach, this pit of worry proved to be very true when a few weeks later Tom disappeared to buy school supplies and finally told Harry that he had been accepted to a boarding school on full scholarship in Scotland and would not be back except for summer holidays.

“I can read too!” Harry protested, “I can do math as well!”

“This is a school for special people Harry,” Tom said as he packed a large trunk, “you wouldn’t understand.”

Harry wished he had never let that man talk to Tom.

 --------- 

**June 1939**

  
  
When Tom finally came back the next summer he was in a foul mood, all he could talk about was wanting to go back to the school, and he ignored Harry even more than he had when they had first met. In fact, all Tom could do was scowl and talk about how much better his school was. It was like Harry and Wool’s Orphanage was nothing more than dirt on his shoe.

Of course, he still tolerated Harry’s presence, and sometimes even told Harry tidbits of the school, although Harry could see Tom did not even tell him ten percent of the whole story.

He found out that Tom’s family had probably gone to the school, and Tom was probably very important and maybe soon he would not have to come back to the Orphanage at all.

He kept mentioning his dad and how he was sure his dad was also special.

“If my mom were special like my dad, then she wouldn’t have died,” Tom had informed him and Harry quietly thought to himself that no matter how special anyone was, everyone had to die eventually.

In the end, Harry did not tell Tom how badly he had been bullied in Tom’s absence, or how Mrs. Cole kept trying to catch him when he hid from families looking to adopt, or how he had been studying and had even asked Harrison Wilkes when he came over for some paper and pen, or how he was hurt that Tom had not even written- not even on Christmas.

Soon it was time for Tom to leave again and Harry felt terrible as he realized how happy Tom was to leave him again.

  ---------

**June 1940**

  
Tom gritted his teeth as he got off the train after his second year at Hogwarts and exited the platform with his trunk. Despite his flawless grades and amazing reputation with all of the teachers at the school and the majority of the students as well as the excuse about the declared war- he had been denied permission to stay the school all summer.

 _Dumbledore_ had denied him. He hated the man and the way he played favorites with the Gryffindors and mudbloods of the school. He hated how the man could see right through him and had ordered him to spend yet another summer at the filthy muggle orphanage with all of the muggles who had made him feel so freakish when he had really been extraordinary. All of the muggles and- Harry.

Tom blinked as he saw Harry beaming brightly at him and waving at him next to Mrs. Cole who looked even more haggard than normal.

He had forgotten about Harry.

His rage slightly lessened and he could feel the curdling sensation of guilt in his gut but quickly shook it off. If Harry were special like him he would not have had to abandon him.

  ---------

**July 1940  
**

Tom was mildly surprised when Dumbledore entered his room with a little over one month left of summer, and he foolishly hoped, if only for a second that he was here to take Tom to Hogwarts and he had changed his mind. His hope froze though as Dumbledore cleared his throat and asked

“Tom, may you leave the room? I need to speak with Harry here.”

Tom nodded his head as he stiffly left the room like Harry had, two years prior.

Harry on the other hand, was ecstatic, his hard work had paid off! In fact, just a few weeks before Tom came back he had shown Mrs. Cole his skills in reading and writing and she had asked him to tutor some of the older children at the orphanage!

“Do you know who I am Harry?” The man asked, sitting precariously on Harry’s dingy bed.

“You’re the man from Tom’s school! The one he got a scholarship to! I’ve been working really hard all year so I can go too! I can read and write very well sir, you won’t regret it!” Harry said, beaming up at him.

Dumbledore was shocked- he was sure since Harry was another wizard that Tom would be gleeful in showing Harry all that he had learned so perhaps he could have a partner in torturing all the rest of the children.

“Harry…can you do things, especially when you’re upset? It would’ve started when you were about three or so.” Dumbledore asked slowly. It was a few moments before Harry answered, much less enthusiastically.

“I..uh, yes sir, I mean…I don’t know. I can make things move and one time when I was being chased by the kids instead of climbing up the tree I just appeared there. I don’t think I did it when I was three though, I can’t remember. Are you going to take me to a government lab? Am I a mutant?” Harry ended with a scared whisper.

“Of course not, my boy,” Dumbledore laughed, “The school Tom attends, it’s called Hogwarts, a place to learn magic. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and you are a wizard…and I am Albus Dumbledore.”  

“Magic…” Harry trailed off, looking down at his hands. Unlike Riddle, Harry’s expression was one of pure child amazement and excitement and Dumbledore found himself quickly growing fond of Harry, “So that’s what Tom has been learning? Magic? He can do things like me?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore affirmed, “Tom never told you?”

“No but I, I should have guessed,” Harry said, thinking of the Cave incident with a slight shiver. Since then Mrs. Cole had not allowed him to go on the trip at all. Suddenly Harry felt guilty, “And…I never told him about me either…”

Dumbledore raised one eyebrow but did not prod any further, instead he went through the motions, giving Harry a demonstration- at which Harry let out a laugh and clapped his hands, told Harry about the rules about not doing magic outside of the school and how muggles (the wizard’s world for non-magic people) cannot know about magic whatsoever. Then he pulled a rather thick letter out from his very colorful robes.

“Oh, one more thing,” Dumbledore said, holding the letter just slightly out of Harry’s reach, “Your letter, unfortunately, does not have a middle or a last name, a malfunction in the charm, I’m sure. Would you mind telling me them?”

Harry shook his head, “I’m sorry sir, but I don’t remember them…I uh, I was found by the policemen a little over two years ago with amnesia and no one has claimed me.”

“Ah, well then, I see little harm in creating a name for yourself,” Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling as he winked at Harry. Harry grinned and thought about it for a second.

“Can my middle name be Thomas and my last name be Wilson?” Harry thought, it would be nice to pay tribute to two of his favorite people in his own subtle way.

“Well, I can’t say anything, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Harry Thomas Wilson fits right in at Hogwarts.” With that Dumbledore gave Harry his letter and left the room and Harry collapsed onto his bed with a giddy smile on his face as he looked at the envelope. To his delight, the rest of his name began to appear.

_Harry Thomas Wilson_  
_Third Bedroom, West Hall, Second Floor_  
_Wool’s Orphanage, London_

 --------- 

“I got in,” Harry said, walking alongside Wilkes. Wilkes raised his eyebrows at the young boy who grinned back at him, “The school, the one I was studying for, I got in…turns out I didn’t need to study as hard as I did.”

Harrison Wilkes shrugged and smiled.

“I’m going to go get supplies with Tom in London, they’re paying for those too!”

They spent the next few minutes in a very comfortable silence.

“Harry Thomas Wilson,” Harry said suddenly, “The man who informed me of my scholarship told me to come up with a full name, that’s mine.”

Wilkes ruffled Harry’s hair and cleared his throat, “It’s a fine name.”

  ---------

**August 1940**

  
Tom had been angry at first that Harry had never told him that he could also do magic but it soon disappeared. Now, they were currently at Diagon Alley. With the rise of a Dark Lord and conflict in Germany, there were not nearly as many people shopping as there normally would be, which was fine with Tom.

However, Harry’s face was filled with wonder as they walked through the people in robes with shops stacked on top of one another. Tom had taken his list from him and glanced over the needed materials, although he remembered them from his own first year.

First they stopped by Gringott’s- which Tom explained was the Wizarding Bank run by goblins. Apparently it was here that orphans picked up their Hogwarts stipend for the year. When they were done, they both had a pouch with coins inside. Harry marveled at how shiny the coins were.

Tom agreed to give Harry his old textbooks- and Harry in turn, used some of the extra money to purchase both Tom and him new robes rather than the secondhand ones that Tom had been purchasing.

Harry now walked out of Ollivander’s, holding his wand gently to his chest, birch and vine wood with unicorn hair. He relished in the feeling of completeness as he held his wand.

Harry looked at Tom who was busy looking through all the windows, searching for an interesting shop to browse in and he could feel nothing but content.  
  
 

\---------

**September 1940**

When the day came to board the train and go to Hogwarts, Harry was practically bursting with excitement, he had spent all day pestering Tom with questions, questions that were left unanswered but it put no damper on Harry’s mood, especially because he was used to it.

When he saw Tom walk through the brick wall, he let out an audible gasp, before pushing his cart and running toward the wall full speed.

Tom and he shared a compartment in relative silence, with Harry sometimes talking to Tom, Tom sometimes answering but mostly not, and Harry reading his textbooks.

He had gone over most of them multiple times, each time getting more and more excited at the prospect of magic and the fact that he wasn’t alone.

After what was supposedly a long ride, but Harry did not notice at all, Tom looked at him and said, “We’ll be arriving shortly, you should change.”

“Er, right,” Harry said, gathering a change of robes and opening the compartment to find the restroom to change.

When he came back, Tom was also changed, probably taking advantage of Harry not being there and Harry observed his green and silver tie.

“I knew you’d be in Slytherin,” Harry commented.

“If you wish to continue our _friendship_ ,” Tom said, while adjusting his tie a bit, “You better be in Slytherin too.” With that, Tom reached up and took down his trunk.

Harry felt his stomach drop, because while he had entertained the idea of being in the same House as Tom, he had read up on them and knew he was definitely not ambitious and cunning. Or Pureblooded. But then again, Tom wasn’t Pureblooded, so maybe it did not matter?  

Meanwhile Tom smirked to himself, the closer Harry was, the more he could use him to his advantage.

  ---------

  
“Wilson, Harry,” Albus Dumbledore called up, smiling as the boy nervously stepped up to the stool. Harry sat down and Albus placed the hat on his head.

“ _Hm, interesting character here._ ”

“ _Please, Slytherin, please, please, please._ ” Harry thought to himself with his fingers crossed.

“ _Slytherin? With the loyalty you show that boy, you’d be a perfect fit for Hufflepuff_ ,” The hat commented, “ _In Slytherin you’d be miserable, I can see it all here, in your head you know. They don’t take too kindly to Muggleborns there, you’d be an outcast._ ”

 “ _I don’t care, I’ve been an outcast before. I really want to be in Slytherin, please.”_ Harry then began to think of all the times he had been bullied before, he could take it, he didn’t mind.

“ _Maybe in a different life kid, but you do have guts_ ,” with that the Sorting Hat then called out, “ **GRYFFINDOR**!”

Harry let out a sigh and a shrug, he had tried, but as the table with the red and gold banner burst out in cheers and applause he smiled.

  ---------

“You’ve been in a foul mood all night Riddle,” Avery commented, stretching out on his bed, “What happened?”

Tom glared at Avery but said nothing. He instead wondered what Harry was doing right now. He probably was laughing and joking with the lions. Not even thinking about Tom.

Tom let out a long breath to calm himself down, in Hogwarts he usually didn’t lose control like that, in fact, he normally didn’t lose control at all unless he wanted to.

He didn’t particularly _need_ Harry in Slytherin, he reasoned. He didn’t need Harry at all. There were so many new things to learn this school year. So many curses to research. Maybe he could transfigure a cup into a rabbit and torture it and pretend it was Billy Stubb’s rabbit.

  ---------

  
Harry meanwhile, was getting to know all of his dorm-mates. There was Edward McLaggen, Ignatius Prewett, Owen Hornby, and a very large boy named Hagrid. Harry immediately took a liking to Ignatius Prewett, who was a pureblooded red-head with a mischievous grin, the two got along quite well.

He was, apparently, the only muggleborn sorted into Gryffindor that year, a fact which all of them seemed to be immensely interested in, they constantly asked him about things in the Muggle world. When the topic came to his early childhood, Harry shrugged and told them of his amnesia.

“Wha’- wha’s a meesha?” Hagrid asked, face screwed up.

“It’s when you lose your memory,” Harry informed them, “I was apparently found in London one day wandering around- not even knowing my own name. The police took me in, then dropped me off at Wool’s Orphanage where I’ve been ever since.”

“Oh so it’s kind of like being Obliviated!” McLaggen concluded, causing the other boys to ‘aah’ in understanding.

When everyone had said goodnight, Harry stared at the ceiling, hoping Tom wasn’t too angry with him.

  ---------

**June 1941**

Harry and Tom looked around at the destruction caused by what people were calling the Blitz. Bombings for over seventy days, people said. So many people dead. Tom observed with indifference, the Muggle world was beneath him now. However, Harry was very visibly upset.  

Harry knew that some of the fellow muggleborns at Hogwarts didn’t have a home to go back to anymore.

Harry was relieved to find that Wool’s Orphanage was still standing while Tom sneered. Being one of the few buildings standing, there were even more children there. Food would be scarce that summer, and Tom plotted on who he would be stealing food from.

The day after they came back, Harry was approached by Mrs. Cole who took him out of the orphanage for a few hours.

When they came back, Harry was crying and clutching a badge to his chest.

Apparently, Harrison Wilkes had been lucky that he had been properly identified, so many had not been.

Tom found it very annoying that Harry cried so much that summer, but, at least he didn’t look ugly while doing it.

  ---------

**December 1941**

“Happy Birthday Tom!” Harry said, shoving a very haphazardly wrapped present into his friend’s hands. Tom stared down at the present.

“You already got me a Christmas present, you should’ve saved your money,” Tom said, raising one eyebrow.

“It’s because you keep giving me your textbooks that I even have enough money to buy you something Tom, so just humor me.” Harry said.

Tom took off the wrapping and was surprised to see a brown leather-bound diary with his name written on it. “A diary?”

“Yeah, well I know you think a lot of things that you don’t tell anyone, not even me, so I figure you need a place to put all of those thoughts,” Harry shrugged, “Also, I know you don’t like your name, but I think it’s a pretty great name, so I put that on there too.”

Tom did not thank Harry, but he kept the diary.

  ---------

**January 1942**

His classmates were talking about sex, _again_. Or perhaps it was who they wanted to have sex with, either way Tom was content to lean back and do his homework. They long ago stopped asking Tom for his input on conversations such as this, as he never really had anything to say.

The war had not bothered nor shaken Slytherin house very much- in fact, most of them viewed the war in a pretty positive light, eradication of the muggles and misery of the muggleborns they were all for- and Tom was inclined to agree with them. But when he thought of how Harry had cried that summer he frowned, perhaps there was a better way to go about it?

“That second year Wilson, I would take him to bed in a heartbeat.”

“The Gryffindor?”

“You disgust me, Nott- a muggleborn?”

“It’s his face, it’s so pretty.” Nott said, letting out a lewd moan. Which caused everyone around to roll their eyes.

“Don’t you all have something better to do in your time?” Tom snapped out, his eyes narrowed, causing the boys to all jump, they had never heard Tom speak with such venom. He was usually so charming that he had most of the school eating out of his palm.

“See? Riddle agrees, no one should lay with such filth, no matter how pretty.”

That night, under very heavy privacy charms, Tom came into his hand thinking that Harry was purer and worthier than all of them.

  ---------

**May 1942**

It was the end of the year and Harry was watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice along with Ignatius who was making amusing commentary.

When the team was done, Ignatius went back to the castle right away, while Harry stayed out to enjoy the outdoors for just a few more minutes.  Lying down he let out a contented sigh as he stared out at the sky.

“Did you enjoy watching our practice?” A voice asked, and Harry rocketed up and blinked in shock at seeing the team’s Seeker grinning down at him.

“Yeah,” Harry replied back, enthusiastically, “You guys are brilliant!”

“Why don’t you try out? We can always use more Reserve players!”

“I would, but I suck at flying, it’s one of those things I admire because I cannot do it.”

The boy laughed and stuck out his hand for Harry to take, “I’m Charlus, Charlus Potter.”

“I’m Harry Wilson.”

  ---------

**June 1942**

The situation at Wool’s was even worse, with declining support and money and even more children and no adoptions happening, the orphanage was cramped. Harry had moved back in with Tom since anyone else who was placed there almost immediately had an accident of some kind.

Currently everyone in the orphanage was sleeping- or was supposed to. Tom could hear Harry shuffling around on the floor, tossing and turning.

“Can you stop?” Tom hissed out at him.

The shuffling stopped, followed by a whispered, “Sorry, Tom. Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“I, I kind of got used to sleeping on a bed, but it’s okay, I can-“

“Get up here,” Tom ordered.

“Tom?”

“You can share my bed with me, so I can get some damned sleep.”

“O-okay, thank you.”

As Harry fell asleep, Tom allowed himself to lean in closer to Harry and drag his fingers across Harry’s pale arm.

“ _His skin is soft_ ,” Tom thought, “ _and mine_.”

  ---------

**October 1942**

Tom, in a rare display of frustration, pushed the book aside. For weeks he had been looking into his heritage, looking for any sign of his father.

“Did you ever think that maybe, your mother was the one that was magical and not your father?” Harry suggested, closing the book he was looking at and opening another one entitled **_Wizarding Family Traits._**

Tom growled, “What’s the point of being better than that filth if you die giving birth?”

The same thought that had crossed Harry’s mind in previous years popped up again, only this time he spoke it out loud, “No one can escape death Tom, not even magical people.”

Tom snarled, his eyes dangerous, “I will.”

Harry sighed, used to Tom’s temper, and went back to reading.

Minutes later, Harry pulled Tom out of his brooding by slamming the book he was reading in front of Tom.

Tom’s face lit up.

He was Slytherin.

  ---------

**December 1942**

Harry sighed, he had hardly seen Tom at all during the break. In fact, after helping Tom with his little genealogy project back in the fall, he had hardly seen him at all.

He did notice that every Slytherin was now hanging off of Tom’s arms more so than they already had before due to his intelligence and magical power.

Well, at least the Quidditch pitch looked pretty. The snow covered all the grass and the warm lights of Hogwarts cast a nice glow over the snow. Looking around and seeing no one, Harry let himself fall into the snow and began to make a snow angel.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice asked and Harry looked up to see Charlus Potter grinning at him.

“You sure the great pureblooded Seeker Charlus Potter can lower himself to making a snow angel with me?” Harry asked snickering. Harry and Charlus had become quite good friends just over the past week when Charlus stayed over winter break in order to get a head start on some of his work.

Charlus jokingly also looked around to see if anyone was there and whispered, “I think I can spare a few moments.”

As Charlus landed in the snow himself and began to make a snow angel, Harry sputtered as the snow Charlus pushed aside landed directly on his face.

“You arse!” Harry laughed, gathering the snow off of his face and dumping it on top of Charlus’ face.

“Oi!” Charlus said, “I grace you with my presence and you treat me like this? Wait until my father hears about this!” With that he lunged at Harry, prompting a wrestling match. Harry fought valiantly but was soon pinned under the heavier boy.

“Alright, I give, I give!” Harry yelled laughing.

“Good, I think it’s time for my winning prize then,” Charlus said smugly.

“What do you want?” Harry asked in amusement, lightly propping himself up on his elbows, “Perhaps an old hand-me-down scarf? I have a few of-“

He was silenced by Charlus’ lips on his.

The only thought on Harry’s mind was that he hadn’t been able to tell Tom happy birthday.  

 --------- 

**February 1943**

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Harry whispered as he wrapped his arms around Charlus’ midsection. The two had been meeting up at Hogsmeade every weekend. Their relationship was secret for now, but only until Charlus could speak to his parents about it over Easter holidays. He had laughed quite hard when Harry had asked if they would be okay with Charlus being with another boy. Worrying about sexual orientation, race, or religion was below wizards.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Harry,” Charlus said, ducking his head down to press his lips lightly to Harry’s. He broke away from the kiss in order to give Harry a small package, “For you.”

Harry opened it and pulled out the object, it looked a lot like a muggle spinning top, “Aah what’s this?”

Charlus smirked as he buried his face in Harry’s hair, “I sometimes forget you’re a muggleborn with how brilliant you are, this is a Sneakoscope. It will light up, spin, and whistle if someone is doing something untrustworthy near you. With all of the recent attacks on muggleborns, it would make me feel better if you had one on you.”

“Charlus,” Harry swallowed, he wanted to tell Charlus that he had feeling he knew exactly who was behind the attacks and if it was who he thought it was he wouldn’t have to worry about anything, but he bit his tongue, “thank you.”

  ---------

**April 1943**

“Harry,” Charlus whispered in his ear, making Harry jump and Charlus chuckle. They were meeting in an empty classroom now, Hogsmeade trips had been taken away with the attacks still ongoing.

“Charlus,” Harry said smiling at him, “Welcome back, how was your Easter?”

“It was fine,” Charlus said, “boring without you. I told my parents by the way.”

“Yeah? How’d it go?”

“Fine,” Charlus said, a grin overtaking his face, “they want to meet you over the summer.”

“What?!”

  ---------

**June 1943**

“Tom, this is _murder_!” Harry hissed, he had finally cornered Tom alone after hearing the news of Myrtle’s death. The Ministry was due to arrive at the school that evening to deliver the body to her parents, “This isn’t just taking revenge on the bullies, this isn’t _right_.”

“What makes you think I have anything to do with this?” Tom hissed.

“Please, I _know_ you Tom,” Harry said, “I know it’s you, I may not know exactly how, but I know it is you, this has your fingerprints all over it.”

“And what of it? Did you care for that filthy little mudblood?” Tom taunted, eyes alight in a way that made Harry uneasy for the first time in a very long time.

“What if they find out, you know Dumbledore suspects you, he even asked me if I knew anything,” Harry said, “they’ll take you away from Hogwarts, from Wool’s! What if I can’t see you again?”

Tom looked at Harry oddly.

“What do you think I should do then?”

Harry made a whining noise at the back of his throat, “I don’t know, just don’t get caught!”

  ---------

**July 1943**

“So you’re still mad at me for framing that oaf.” Tom stated, it was getting ridiculous, it had been nearly a month and Harry had hardly said a word to him, “You told me not to get caught, and you were the one who told me about Hagrid’s fascination with creatures.”

Harry just glared at Tom.

Tom got close to Harry and pinned him against the wall, whispering in his ear, “Would it have been better had it been someone you didn’t know hmm? Would that have made it morally okay in your book or would you still be throwing this temper tantrum?”

Harry pushed Tom away from him harshly and turned his head away.

“Fine,” Tom said, anger filling him, he fiddled in his pockets and pulled out the police badge he had slipped there just that morning. When Harry saw it his eyes widened as he immediately reached for it but Tom kept it out of his reach, “I wonder what would happen if I were to burn this with magic, or maybe I could shatter it.”

“No,” Harry whispered, “give it back.”

“Or maybe I can destroy it in a muggle way, fitting for a filthy muggle cop,” with that Tom threw the badge on the ground and put his foot directly on top of it.

“No! Don’t please Tom, please don’t!” Harry was screaming now, as he clawed at Tom’s shoe trying to remove it from the badge.

Tom wrapped long fingers around Harry’s neck and tilted Harry’s chin so Harry was looking at him.

“Do you forgive me, _friend_?”

“Yes, yes, please, give it back to me,” Harry said and he cried in relief as Tom’s foot moved so he could pick up the badge.

“Good.”

  ---------

**August 1943**

“Charlus!” Harry greeted as he stumbled into the other boy’s arms. The Knight Bus had not done any favors from him, and he usually wasn’t the most graceful person either.

“Are you okay there?” Charlus asked, his eyes showing his amusement.

“I’m fine,” Harry said, gathering himself.

“So is this him?” A feminine voice asked and for the first time Harry looked behind Charlus to see two beautiful and imposing figures.

“Yes mother,” Charlus answered, grinning, “Mom, dad, meet Harry Thomas Wilson.”

Harry bowed to both of them before shaking their hands.

“How darling!” His mother commented, ushering the two inside, “Come on, I have some snacks prepared for you both.”

Charlus’ parents were polite and when Charlus and Harry excused themselves to Charlus’ room, Charlus’ dad winked at them and shouted

“Don’t do anything that will make your mother blush!”

“They loved you!” Charlus said, grinning, “I knew they would.”

“I think the feeling is mutual then,” Harry said, “They’re great.”

“I’m glad you like them,” Charlus murmured, rubbing Harry’s shoulders, leaning in he whispered, “Can I kiss you?”

Harry tilted his face up and nodded. Charlus captured his lips in a sweet kiss and pulled Harry to his bed, setting him down on the on the soft sheets. Harry responded positively, wrapping his arms around Charlus’ neck.

Charlus broke the kiss and gently removed his own shirt, making Harry blush at the other’s physique. They continued until Harry’s shirt was gone too and their hands began to dip just below the waistband of each other’s pants.

Harry pulled away then, face flushed as he stuttered, “I- Charlus it’s my- I don’t know if I can-“

Charlus smiled and shushed Harry, “It’s okay Harry. I am more than willing to wait.” He must’ve noticed Harry’s guilty gaze because he added, “When we do it will be wonderful and ten times better than what might have happened here because we will love each other.”

**\---------**

Harry had been gone for a whole day now, Mrs. Cole said Harry had gotten her permission to go to a friend’s house. Tom sneered, wondering why Harry had felt the need to leave him out of his little plans.

Tom flipped through the diary Harry had gotten him, he had not written in it.

But, with Harry gone he could try something, something he had only seen in whispers of books on the library bookshelves.

When Harry returned he found Tom in somewhat of a stupor with a manic look in his eyes.

“I did it Harry,” Tom said, upon seeing the boy walk in.

“You did what?” Harry asked warily.

Tom got up and stalked towards Harry, and pressed his body against Harry’s, using Dark magic always gave him such a rush. He could have anything he wanted because he was powerful enough, anything.

“Tom, are you okay?” Harry pressed his hand against Tom’s forehead to check for a fever.

Tom chuckled and pressed his face against Harry’s next, pressing kisses to the flesh that was exposed by a slightly too large shirt, “You’re pretty.” He kept pushing Harry until Harry fell on their shared cot, he climbed on top of Harry.

“Tom, Tom stop.” Harry said pressing his hands against Tom’s chest.

“Why?” Tom said, seeming to snap to perfect clarity, eyes narrowed.

“I-“ Harry hesitated before spilling it out, “I have someone.”

Tom walked out of their room and slammed the door.

He did not come back- and when Harry got too tired to wait up for him, he drifted to sleep.

That night Harry woke to Tom’s hands everywhere and his body on top of his. Still half asleep and not quite sure what was happening he let out a little moan. This seemed to increase Tom’s attentions. He felt lips and teeth on his neck and was suddenly aware that his shirt was gone and his pants were halfway down his legs.

As Harry came to full clarity he began to push on Tom’s shoulders, trying to wiggle free.

“Don’t.” Tom warned, pushing Harry down further into the scratchy, thin mattress. Tom slipped his boxers down to join his pants and all Harry could feel were touches that burned and the tears running down his face.

Tom disregarded him as he wrapped a hand experimentally around his penis and gave a few pumps. Harry hated himself for responding.

He felt Tom lift his legs and hands exploring there too.

When Tom eventually entered him, harshly, roughly, Harry knew there was no love. There was only possession and dominance. The tears stopped, and Harry lay there, staring at the ceiling and as Tom filled him so did shame. When Tom finally fell asleep next to Harry, so sure Harry would do nothing Harry sat wondering why he could hate himself and as he looked at the boy who had violated him he could only find forgiveness.

  ---------

**September 1943**

“I’m sorry Charlus.” Harry managed to choke out after all was said and done. Charlus was left standing there confused and hurt. Charlus had asked why and Harry couldn’t answer. How could he say his closest friend raped him? But it was all okay because Harry loved Tom and had already forgiven him, but didn’t know if he could forgive himself ever.

Harry walked away and hid where no one could find him.

But Tom could always find him.

Harry curled in on himself, trying to hide himself from Tom’s eyes, forgiven but not forgotten like the rest of them all.

“ _Don’t look at me_ ,” Harry thought.

Tom kissed him and left.  

  ---------

**January 1944**

“I love you.” Harry whispered when he thought Tom was not paying attention. He hoped that saying it out loud might make him feel better. Tom rarely listened to him anyway, Harry reasoned.

He was right. Tom did not hear him.

It did not make him feel any better.

  ---------

**June 1944**

It continued that summer. It came to a point where Tom would just need to press his hands against Harry in a certain way and Harry knew what was to come.

Harry hated himself for settling for this. Loving a boy who would never love him back, because he _couldn’t_. Because he was a dark boy filled with only hate and possession who would probably one day be consumed by it.

Harry spread his legs more as Tom continued to pump into him, showering him with half-hearted praises as he left bruises on his skin.

Harry let his mind wander to Charlus, strong Charlus. Charlus would not have settled, Charlus could have loved Harry. Maybe he let this happen because Tom was the only one he could ever remember loving, maybe if he had remembered loving his mother or father he would be stronger. Harry must have let his mind wander for too long because he felt a hand tighten around his throat.

Harry’s eyes focused and they found Tom watching his face, dark eyes swirling.

But he could never have loved Charlus.

Maybe it was better this way.

  ---------

**August 1944**

“I love you.”

This time Tom heard it, Harry knew Tom heard it. Tom didn’t say anything. That was okay, Harry could work with nothing.

“I think I’ve loved you ever since we were little,” Harry said, “I could never stay away. Even after you tried to drown me.”

Tom still said nothing.

Harry closed his eyes.

“Every time you hurt me I think ‘this is it, this is when I stop loving him’, but I can’t.”

The crickets outside had never seemed so loud.

  ---------

**December 1944**

This time it was in Tom’s secret room, the one where you could think of something and the room you needed appeared in front of you.

This room was bare, with only a bed in it. There was not even anything on the ceiling to distract Harry. Harry knew that Tom hated it when he was distracted.

Harry closed his eyes as he blocked out everything, thinking of something mundane, something safe. Dumbledore had been getting suspicious because of Harry, he had given Harry sad understanding eyes and asked him if he had anything to tell him.

Harry had said no sir and smiled and then let The Devil sink his claws into his back.

“Harry, look at me,” Tom stressed, “Don’t you _love_ me?”

Harry’s eyes snapped open, once again fully aware of the intrusion in his body and the hands and the teeth. As green eyes took in Tom’s malicious smirk he thought Tom had never been so cruel.

  ---------

**June 1945**

Dumbledore had defeated Gellert Grindelwald, it was supposedly the greatest duel in all of history between two wizards.

When Tom learned the news Harry knew immediately that Tom was fearful. Next to death, Dumbledore was his worst fear.

He wondered what his third worst fear was.

Tom knew what his third fear was, it was laying under him right now, staring up at him with big green eyes as if they saw every single terrible evil deed (though he hadn’t told Harry about his father) he had ever done and they accepted him for it.

It was what had brought him back to Wool’s again rather than going straight to Albania as planned. It was the thing that could probably make him move mountains if he asked. The only thing that he cared about possessing perhaps just as much as immortality.

It was Harry. His only friend.

  ---------

**September 1945**

Tom was in Albania and Harry was in Hogwarts. Harry felt a weight lift off of his shoulders without Tom there watching him. It was almost as if he didn’t need to worry about loving Tom. So he threw himself into his studies and distracted himself with his friends.

He began to visit Hagrid in the hut. Together they tried to cook- but their cakes and biscuits would always come out vaguely rock-like. Harry would eat them anyway.

He even tried flying again, though it was just as disastrous as the first time he had tried. He may have even tried to contact Charlus again if Charlus hadn’t already graduated and entered a betrothal contract with Dorea Black.

When he heard the portraits whispering of handsome young Tom Riddle pleading Headmaster Dippet right after he graduated for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position that had opened up for at least two years only to be turned down Harry didn’t allow himself the luxury of hope.

  ---------

**June 1946**

When he got to Wool’s, Harry did not see Tom, nor did he get any letters. It was like Tom’s first two years of Hogwarts all over again, however, at least the war was over now- and people were starting to adopt- some were even going back to family.

Harry got himself a part-time job to help the Orphanage down at the police station.

When Harry walked in the station to start his job on the first day and someone recognized him and said, “Look it’s Wilkes’ boy!” Harry felt good about himself for the first time in years.

He wondered if this is what recovery felt like.

Then Tom visited and he wondered if that was what relapse felt like.

  ---------

**September 1946**

Harry entered his last year of Hogwarts trying to hold his head held high. He had only seen Tom a few times during the summer, as Tom had taken up a position at Borgin and Burke’s after turning down a Ministry offer.

Tom had been different though, almost as if he wasn’t all quite there. To everyone else he probably appeared completely fine, but to Harry, who knew Tom’s soul better than anyone knew something had happened and was probably still happening. It unsettled him. Tom could hurt Harry and twist him but Harry could not allow Tom to hurt and twist himself.

Even if it was what Tom had been wanting his whole life.  


**\---------**

**December 1946**

Tom got up, casting various cleaning charms on himself (but not on Harry, but that was okay because Harry doubted he could be cleaned by one anyway). Harry looked at him, it was almost like Tom wasn’t all there.

Why couldn’t anyone _else_ see it? It was like staring at a porcelain plate that had been broken but then glued back together poorly.

Tom began to excitedly tell him about all the dark artifacts he came across at Borgin and Burkes. None of them were worthy, apparently.

“Worthy of what?” Harry had asked then.

Tom did not answer him and instead began to leave. He tended to leave whenever Harry disappointed him. As Tom opened the door to walk out of their rented inn room, Harry stopped him.

“Happy Birthday Tom,” Harry said.

Tom looked as though he had forgotten his own birthday himself, but Harry brushed it off.

Who didn’t know when their own birthday was, after all?

  ---------

**June 1947**

Harry was unpacking his bags into a small room at the Leaky Cauldron. He, unlike Tom, had not been offered a job, so he would need to go job hunting soon enough.

He heard a crack of Apparition and then a knock outside his room door and he knew who it was. He opened the door for Tom who sneered at his room briefly.

Tom was in a good mood and Harry wondered what he had done this time.

Tom told him that soon he would be going to Ministry and asking if the position was still available, he had quit his job at Borgin and Burkes. He would then proceed to climb up to the top before changing the world.

While it all sounded like something Tom would say, Harry couldn’t help but feel like this was an imposter standing in Tom’s skin.

Tom then pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, a ritual Harry was very familiar with. Harry tried his best to drift away but Tom always brought him back.

“Say my name Harry,” Tom whispered.

“Tom,” Harry replied back dutifully only to be slapped across the face.

“No, not Tom,” Tom bent down to whisper into Harry’s ear, “ _Lord Voldemort_.”

When Tom was done he collapsed next to Harry, breathing heavily.

“ _Ah, so it isn’t Tom after all_ ,” Harry thought, surprisingly without any emotion.

“We’ll need to change your name too,” Lord Voldemort said, folding his arms behind his head, “Harry Thomas Wilson is a pitifully common name.”

“It’s a fine name,” Harry whispered back. Lord Voldemort snorted and went to sleep.

Harry looked at the police badge on the bedside table and at the man who _wasn’t_ Tom. Then, Harry resolved to save Tom from Lord Voldemort.

As Harry’s hands closed around Lord Voldemort’s throat he didn’t hesitate.

He didn’t love Lord Voldemort after all.

  ---------

  
Lord Voldemort stared at Harry Wilson while rubbing his neck that was sure to be bruised. The habit of sleeping with his wand had saved him. Well, at least the boy had fulfilled some purpose, Lord Voldemort thought. He brought out the two treasures, and split his soul again.

Lord Voldemort got dressed and wondered about going to Ministry today, but as he glanced at the body on the ground for some reason he felt sick.

No Ministry then, he would leave, leave the country. Get the experience Dippet talked about and apply to the Defense position again. Harry would like that.

Lord Voldemort quickly disposed of Harry’s belongings and looked down at the boy before incinerating his body.

It was a shame.

Harry Thomas Wilson would’ve made a worthy Horcrux.

  ---------

**June 1980**

Lily rubbed a hand across her belly, feeling the child within kick energetically. She rolled her eyes and figured that this boy would probably be just like his father. When she told James this he let out a laugh and suggested that they name the boy James Jr.

“Definitely not,” Lily said, but acquiesced when she saw her husband’s downtrodden face, “James can be his middle name though.”

James perked up and laid his head on his wife’s belly.

“How about Harry then? My father was always fond of that name. Told me he would have named me Harry if it hadn’t had been for mum.”

“Harry James Potter?” Lily said out loud, testing it, thinking about holding a little boy and calling him Harry and she smiled, “It’s a fine name.”

 ---------

**October 1981**

He had tried to spare her, stupid girl. His servant would understand however, that his little mudblood fascination had to die. When he had heard that one of the boy’s born to fit the prophecy would be a _Potter_ , he had been delighted.

Charlus Potter and Dorea Potter had died of a sudden bout of mid-age dragon pox that no one had seen coming just last summer.

Lord Voldemort approached the crib.

Harry Potter- the boy said to have the power to defeat him. The infant looked at him calmly with familiar green eyes and Lord Voldemort for the first time in a long time hesitated. Lord Voldemort then laughed, remembering moments when they were Tom Riddle and Harry Wilson.

“Come back to haunt me, have you?”

The infant didn’t respond.

Harry Wilson hadn’t spoken much towards the end either. Lord Voldemort raised his wand.

“Avada Kedavra.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for getting through my first story on here. 
> 
> It was meant to only be kind of a collection of drabbles- but then everything ran away from me. A few notes:  
> 1) This story was actually the result of a bunch of ideas thrown at me by friends when I told them I had no ideas on what I wanted to write (among them were such beautiful joke prompts like 'Harry dates his grandpa'). I took all of them as seriously as I could.  
> 2) I tried to stick to the original timeline of when Tom did things as best as I could remember, but some things got smushed together in order to make the life of Harry Wilson's fit.  
> 3) I had no idea when the Hogwarts school year ended for summer, so I made it in late June.  
> 4) Harry's wand was not his holly and phoenix feather wand because he was not yet Harry Potter nor did he have the horcrux in him yet, plus he's not quite the same as his later reincarnation. (I only briefly mentioned the wand, it was going to have a larger part in the story, but I took it out- but if you want an explanation here it is) 
> 
> that is all.  
> Is this even open for a sequel who knows


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